


You and Me Against Them All

by liggytheauthoress



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Asexual Relationship, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 09:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/608179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liggytheauthoress/pseuds/liggytheauthoress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys seek out reassurance after the firefight with Il Duce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and Me Against Them All

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Westlife's "Us Against the World".

Murphy shifted on the couch in Rocco’s living room and sighed, giving up on the idea of sleep. His arm still hurt and he needed a cigarette.

When he opened his eyes, he was only a little surprised to see Connor was also awake. The lighter-haired twin was sitting at the table, smoking, looking at a magazine but not really reading it (Murphy could tell by the way his eyes were darting randomly). He wasn’t looking in the direction of the couch, but Murphy knew he was sitting sentry nonetheless. That was what Connor did.

Connor looked up as Murphy settled down beside him at the table and plucked the cigarette from his fingers. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Murphy took a long drag before answering, “Not really. You?”

Connor shrugged, snatching back the cigarette. “Nah. Not tired.”

To be honest, when it was just the two of them, words were rarely necessary to determine how the other was feeling. They knew each other too well for that; a single look could tell them everything they needed to know. But both Murphy and Connor liked hearing each other’s voice, especially after a fight - it let each brother know that his twin was still there, whole and safe and healthy.

Looking at Connor now, Murphy could easily see what was going through his brother’s head. He was worried (as well he should be, since they were hitting Yakavetta’s headquarters in less than twenty-four hours), stressed (which, considering their new line of work, made sense), more than a little irritated (Murphy guessed this was because Rocco had been around constantly for the past few days - he knew full well Connor wasn’t all too fond of the Italian), and somewhat pensive.

The tension in Connor’s spine was visible, and Murphy placed a hand on the back of his neck and started to lightly rub the muscles, making Connor relax into his touch. As Connor shifted, he jarred Murphy’s arm, making him wince a little - there  _was_  still a healing bullet wound there, after all.

“Arm still hurting ya?” Connor asked quietly, turning in his chair so that he was facing Murphy.

“Little bit.” All right, it was more than a little, but Murphy underplayed it for Connor’s sake. “S’nothin’.”

Connor didn’t say anything more. Instead, he leaned forward, pulling up the sleeve of Murphy’s t-shirt as he did so, and placed a gentle kiss on the bandage covering the place where he’d been shot. It wasn’t firm enough to be painful, just a brush of lips, just enough for Connor to reassure himself that Murphy was in one piece.

It worked a hell of a lot better than the painkillers Murphy had taken earlier.

Murphy reached up with his other arm and ran a hand through Connor’s hair, resting it at the nape of his neck. Connor did the same to him, pulling him slightly forward and pressing their foreheads together.

“What’s wrong, Con?” Murphy whispered, although he was pretty sure he already knew.

“M’not…I don’t know if I can do this, Murph,” Connor whispered back, displaying the type of total openness and vulnerability he only let show when it was just him and Murphy.

“What, the killin’?”

“Nah, it’s not the killin’…I mean, I don’t like it very much, but…it’s not that.” Connor exhaled slowly, reached up and tangling his fingers in Murphy’s hair. “But knowin’ that we - that  _you_  - could get killed any fuckin’ day, just like that…Christ, Murph, after today I already feel like I’m losin’ it, and to make that our lives for who knows how fuckin’ long scares the fuckin’ hell out of me.” Connor looked him straight in the eye and added, in a voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t lose ya, Murph. Anythin’, anyone else, but not you.”

Murphy knew exactly how he was feeling. Not just because they were so completely in tune with one another’s emotions, but because Murphy was feeling the same thing. The thought of people trying to kill them - kill Connor - on a daily basis made him want to curl up in bed with Connor and never get up.

“I know,” Murphy murmured, nodding. “Me too.”

“I know it’s supposed to be our fuckin’ callin’, but…I dunno if I can do the Lord’s will if it means riskin’ you.” Connor sighed, tightening his grasp on Murphy’s hair. “Maybe that’s a sin, I don’t give a fuck.”

It hurt Murphy to see Connor like this. He angled his head in order to press a kiss to his brother’s lips, saying, “I don’t think the Lord would call us to do this if He wasn’t plannin’ on keepin’ an eye on us, Con. He’s got a plan. Like you always do, ‘cept His usually work.”

Connor gave a small smile, which was what Murphy had been aiming for, and cuffed him on the back of the head before turning serious again. “S’ppose we couldn’t get out of it now, even if we wanted to. Pissed off too many people.”

“No fuckin’ shit.” Murphy carded his fingers through his twin’s hair. “Think we’re both in this for the long run, Con.”

“Aye.” Connor sighed again, a resolute expression settling over his face. “Think we are.”

“And we’re in it together. Promise.” Murphy kissed him again, longer this time, trying to give his brother the reassurance he needed. “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

“You fuckin’ better not.”

“That goes for you too, arsehole.”

Connor quirked a small smile. “You and me it is then. Together. Like always.”

“Like it should be.”

“Aye. Like it should be.”


End file.
